


China Doll

by PegasusWrites



Series: Tumblr Songfic [2]
Category: Smiley's People - John Le Carré
Genre: Askbox Fic, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fic, Songfic, Spoilers, this could have gone on for so much longer than 700 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 19:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16182080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PegasusWrites/pseuds/PegasusWrites
Summary: Spoiler warning for Smiley's People.George averts a crisis-in-the-making.





	China Doll

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AreYouReady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreYouReady/gifts).



George noticed Karla lurking beside a plane tree, and scowled. There was a time when the mere mention of Karla (and he would always be Karla, to George) had been enough to give him palpitations. Now he thought nothing of looping his arm through Karla’s and marching him away from the red brick clinic.

"She can’t see you," George hissed, as they walked. "You, or your minders."

It had been two months since George had first brought Tatiana to the clinic. George had insisted that he should be the one to do the bringing, and that he should be allowed to make any subsequent visits. At first this had caused problems - George was retired after all - but George discovered that he had grown stubborn in his old age. He dug his heels in and, after a good deal of hand-wringing, Enderby relented.

The first month had been nightmarish. Tatiana had sobbed and screamed every time George had left. She refused to eat, refused to speak. George hated leaving her when she was like this. He might have slept on the floor beside her bed, if the clinic had let him. Eventually she had settled. When George said goodbye to her now, she didn’t doubt that he would come back soon. They had a routine for saying goodbye: Tatiana would kiss George by the desk in reception, then one of the nurses would take her to her painting class. There were still some occasions when she would race upstairs to her bedroom on the first floor, to watch George from her window. Whether this was to prolong the visit or to assure herself that George was gone George could not say, but he sympathised. He knew from his own experience that habits like this were hard to break.

George prayed that Tatiana was not watching him now. In another life Tatiana would have made a splendid agent: her tradecraft was impeccable. If by some miracle she did not recognise her father, she would certainly understand the significance of the white van dithering across the street.

George held tight to Karla’s arm and marched him around the nearest corner. As soon as they were out of sight of the clinic he loosened his grip, and Karla wrenched his arm away. He turned from George, and hunched his shoulders like a caged animal.

"She’s my _daughter_ ," he said, rubbing frantically at his right elbow. He was wearing a peaked cap, an army surplus jacket and blue jeans. George wondered if he had chosen these clothes, or if they had been chosen for him.

"Nobody’s denying the fact," said George. He was surprised by the anger in his voice. "When she’s well enough, she can decide whether or not she wants to see you. Until then, you should let her alone to recover."

_It’s the least you can do_ , he thought, but he dared not say it. Since Tatiana’s arrival in London, George had done his best to keep her away from the secret world. It was a delicate business, teaching a person not to live in fear. Tatiana had made remarkable progress, but George knew that it could be undone in a second. George hated to think how she might react if she thought George was colluding with her father.

Karla shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He looked young, George thought. Young, and incredibly vulnerable. At that moment, George could see the resemblance between Karla and his daughter. Not through facial similarity, but from a likeness of energy. Karla’s hand still grasped his elbow. For an instant George could have sworn there were tears in Karla’s eyes, but Karla blinked and they were gone, and George told himself that they must have been a trick of the light.

"You’ve taken everything from me," he muttered, not looking at George. It was a cold day, and Karla wore no gloves. His hands were red, and chapped. "Why would you take my daughter from me, as well?"

George looked about them. The narrow street they had turned down was empty, but even so George could not help imagining a dozen sets of eyes watching the two of them. There were enough windows, and George knew they were making a scene. It was an innocuous part of the city, but that didn’t stop every on of George’s instincts from screaming at him to get Karla out of the open.

"Walk with me," he said. "You look like you need the company."

Karla eyed him for a moment, hostile as ever. Then the tension left his shoulders and to George’s surprise he nodded his head.

"You lead," he said, and the two of them started walking.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story in response to a tumblr prompt. You can find the original [here](https://pegasuswrites.tumblr.com/post/171346097837/smarla). Prompt me [here](https://pegasuswrites.tumblr.com/ask).


End file.
